


Baby You're a Classic

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, Felching, Gangbang, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Sex Toys, Spanking, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wears a maid costume, is indignant, and gets fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby You're a Classic

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill for an old kink meme prompt [which can be found here](http://1dkinkmeme.livejournal.com/8532.html?thread=9599572#t9599572) that just wouldn't leave me alone. It's basically just a showcase of a bunch of my kinks, but hopefully it's also enjoyable to others who share my interests (by which I mean Harry getting fucked until he cries). Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own!

“This doesn’t even cover my arse,” Harry whines, peering backwards and attempting to tug the skirt down over his behind “can I at least put some boxers on?”

“Absolutely not!” Louis’ words through the door of the bathroom are stern, and Harry grumbles, rearranging the top of the dress over his chest slightly. It’s uncomfortable, and it doesn’t fit properly at all ( _of course it doesn’t,_ he thinks, _it’s meant for someone with tits_ ). He’s just trying to pull the skirt down again, and frowning at the scratchiness of some of the lace when Niall starts shouting at him.

“Harry will you just hurry up and come out of there? The longer you make us wait around, the more we’ll make you do, okay?” Harry narrows his eyes and swears under his breath, but quickly obliges, unlocking the door and stepping outside. As soon as he’s passed the threshold of the door, Louis yanks him into the middle of the room with a hand on his forearm. Harry can practically feel the way they’re leering at him, and keeps his gaze pointed towards the floor, a scowl on his face.

“Okay, give us a twirl then.” Louis says. Harry doesn’t look at the other boys as he slowly turns in a circle, but he can hear their appreciative noises, and feels his cheeks heat up just a bit.

“Not bad, babe.” Zayn says, and Harry attempts to survey himself without a mirror. He doesn’t look as stupid as he’d feared, really. Yeah, he’s still in a dress, but. It’s not too bad. 

The length of the skirt makes his legs look good, and the way the top of the dress is cut shows off his collarbones nicely, which is always a plus. Louis’ hand is back on his arm, pulling him over to the sofa, and pushing him down so that he’s bent over the arm.

At this point he expects to be spanked, especially with the way Louis pushes his skirt up so that Harry’s ass is completely on show and strokes his hand over Harry’s buttocks, so it’s a surprise when two of Louis’ slick fingers make their way into Harry’s crack. Harry jolts slightly when they brush over his hole, and can’t help gasping when Louis pushes two inside, there’s a burn, but it’s good. Louis starts to move his fingers almost immediately, opening Harry up roughly, and the friction makes Harry cry out and push his face into a cushion. He hears Louis chuckle at his reaction and Harry thinks that he’d probably be angry, were it not for Louis’ fingers curling against his prostate and Louis’ lips against his ear, hushing him and planting kisses onto Harry’s skin.

It’s not long before Louis pulls his fingers out of Harry entirely, and when Harry turns his head he can see Niall moving into view, out of the corner of his eye, holding something in one hand, which he passes to Louis. There’s a click of a bottle, Harry feels his cheeks being spread again, and then plastic is being pushed inside of him, the flared end nestling between his cheeks letting Harry know that it’s a butt plug. It’s not big, but Harry won’t be forgetting it’s there, that’s for sure.

He barely has time to adjust to the plug filling him before Louis pulls him upright once again and drags him back over to the rest of the boys, who are stood by the dining table. Every step has the plug jolting inside of him, and Harry finds himself stumbling as he walks over, trying to pull down his skirt to cover the base, even though he _knows_ that the boys know it’s there.

“Just one more thing,” Louis murmurs, and Harry breathes shakily, tries to compose himself for whatever is coming next. Liam reaches into a small bag on the table, and pulls out a little bundle of black material, passes it over to Louis. Harry figures out what they are before Louis even unfurls them and waves them in Harry’s face. “good, aren’t they?” he asks, an infuriating grin on his face. Harry narrows his eyes, and glares at the panties, certain that the lace is going to be horribly scratchy against him. As if putting him in a fucking dress wasn’t humiliating enough. 

Louis crouches down and bats at Harry’s ankles, encouraging him to step into the underwear, and Harry sighs and obliges him. The feeling of Louis tugging them up his legs, fingers dancing over Harry’s skin, brushing against his inner thighs, puts goosebumps on Harry’s arms, which become shivers when Louis gets the panties all the way up, carefully arranges Harry’s dick in them and strokes his hands over the round of Harry’s ass. The lace doesn’t feel bad at all. To be honest, even though there’s no way Harry would admit it, it feels great against his skin.

“There, you look perfect, Haz. To die for.” Louis says, and smiles again. “You can start by setting up the PlayStation for us, we want to play FIFA.” Harry screws up his face.

“Can’t you do that yourself?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Harry, we don’t have to do _anything_ today.” Liam says, and slaps Harry’s ass as he strolls past towards the sofa. Harry groans, and his knees almost buckle at the way the plug shoves itself deeper into him. He glares at his bandmates across the room. _Fuckers._

\---

By midday, Harry is _fed up_ with this stupid bet, and the stupid forfeit he’s going through for losing it. He’s spent the entire morning hovering awkwardly next to the sofa, because there was no way he was sitting down with a plug inside of him, and rushing to and from the kitchen, fetching things for the boys. 

First they wanted tea. Then they decided that actually they’d had enough tea for the morning, maybe they should have coke instead, and can you bring us the Doritos while you’re out there, Harry? But then of course Niall wasn’t sure if he should be drinking too much coke with his braces, and anyway, they’ve got an endorsement deal, they should really be drinking Pepsi. But there was no Pepsi in the flat, so best just go with the tea then? By that point the tea was obviously cold, so it had to be made all over again, and honestly, Harry was already _exhausted._

There’s a brief lull, when Liam and Louis debate over whether they play Call Of Duty, or whether it would be funnier to watch Harry attempt to use to Wii (Harry tries to ignore them), when:

“I thought,” Niall says “that maids were supposed to y’know, cook and clean and shit. Be domestic. Not just stand around being lazy arseholes.” Harry almost gapes at Niall because he is not being lazy, or did Niall miss Harry’s one thousand trips to the kitchen because he was too busy trying to think of more ways to get him there?

“He’s got a point Harry, why don’t you clean something?” Zayn says. 

“Okay,” Harry answers, trying to keep the defiant edge out of his voice “What exactly should I be cleaning?” Zayn slaps him hard on the thigh and Harry jumps.

“Don’t be insolent,” he smirks “you’ve probably got cobwebs, get your feather duster and sort those out.” Harry bits his lip, nods and most definitely does not swear under his breath as he walks away to find cleaning supplies.

After digging everything out of a cupboard, Harry takes everything into the lounge and peers sceptically at a corner of his ceiling. It doesn’t look as though there’s anything there, but he doesn’t know what the boys would do if he didn’t listen to them, so he stretches up and brushes the feather duster into the corner. The plug moves inside him, presses against his walls (sometimes just nudging his prostate) when he stretches up and shifts back into place when he goes back down. When he stretches up for the third time and someone fucking _wolf-whistles_ at him from across the room, it’s suddenly very obvious why Zayn had ordered him to do this.

Every time he stretches to reach the ceiling, the skirt of his dress rides up and gives the boys a clear view of his ass. True, he’s technically wearing underwear, but those barely cover half of his ass cheeks, and he knows that the base of the plug is clearly visible, wedged into him and shifting around slightly every time he moves. Harry tries once more, swiping the feather duster into the corner, but when Louis lets out an exaggerated, cartoonish groan, he decides to give up and polish the table instead.

\---

Harry finds out an important fact about his plug when he’s underneath the coffee table, trying to sweep up the crumbs that he knows the boys deliberately dropped there and avoid their feet at the same time. It vibrates.

The first short vibration makes him practically leap into the air on his knees, drop the dustpan and brush, and smack his head hard against the bottom of the table. It stops vibrating then, and Harry hears the boys laughing, clearly enjoying his pain, the wankers. He’s about to get out from under the table and tell them exactly what he thinks of them when the plug starts buzzing again, and this time doesn’t stop immediately. The vibrations running through him are almost overwhelming, and Harry can’t stop himself from groaning, arching his back and pushing his rear further into the air. The plug isn’t resting on his prostate, but it’s _just_ touching it, and the feeling has Harry’s cock stiffening quickly. He brings a hand underneath his stomach to touch himself, but just as he brushes against his length the vibrations stop, and someone drags him out from under the table with a hand in his hair.

He whines and looks up, sees that it’s Louis.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Louis demands, punctuating his sentence with a tug on Harry’s curls. Harry squeezes his eyes shut and gulps down some air. He can’t think straight. “You are _not_ to touch yourself, do I make myself clear?” Harry nods at Louis’ words, wills his cock to go down so that he’s not tempted to try and get himself off.

“That’s your first warning Harry,” Liam says from his position on the sofa. “Two more and there’ll be a punishment.” Harry’s breath hitches. He thought he didn’t want to know what they’d do to him if he misbehaved, but now… fuck. Now he’s almost curious.

“I’m hungry,” And that’s Niall, of course it is. “Go and make us something to eat will you, Harry?” Louis lets go of Harry’s hair, and pulls him to his feet. Harry adjusts his dress, almost instinctively now, and whispers _yes, of course_ , because that’s as much as he can manage right now. Louis pats his bum, and shoves him in the direction of the kitchen with a hand on the small of his back. The plug buzzes again as Harry walks into the kitchen, and he has to stifle his moan into the palm of his hand

\---

The boys seem to be having a lot of fun playing with the vibrations of his plug now, which Harry doesn’t understand, considering that they can’t even see his reactions. There’s no kind of pattern to the way it’s happening, so he has no way of preparing himself, sometimes it’ll be a series of short, sharp bursts that goes on for about five minutes, and then maybe continuous vibrations for a minute and nothing for a while after that. He’s so turned on, and it’s nearly impossible to concentrate on cooking like this, but he’s doing his best.

Chicken and pasta, it should keep everyone happy, and he’s pretty sure that his bandmates being awful people won’t cause any mishaps that could put him in hospital. He’s just getting ready to measure out some cream, when Zayn walks into the kitchen, and at the same time, the plug goes off inside of him. Harry thinks that if life was kinder, he would have held everything together, but as it is, he lurches, and a good amount of cream splatters down onto the floor tiles. Harry’s eyes widen, and he smiles at Zayn nervously. Zayn raises his eyebrows.

“Clean it up then,” Harry nods quickly, and moves over to the sink to find a cloth “no, not like that, Harry.” Harry furrows his brow.

“But how…”

“Get on your knees and use your mouth.” It’s only a little bit frightening to Harry how quickly he does what Zayn says, just drops to his knees and winces a little at the impact. He crawls over to the spill and looks up to Zayn for reassurance. Zayn nods, and Harry puts his head down, and starts to lick at the cream, slowly at first. He’s incredibly glad that he’d cleaned the floor earlier that day, or he wouldn’t even have considered this, and who knows what Zayn would have done then. Harry starts to lap up the cream more enthusiastically, mindful of Zayn watching him, moaning quietly when the plug starts to buzz again. It doesn’t take Harry long to clean up the spill entirely, licking the floor until it’s shiny and swiping his tongue over his lips to catch any remaining drops of cream. He looks up at Zayn hopefully.

“That was good. You can carry on now.” And then Zayn is leaving. Harry picks himself up carefully and tries to gather his train of thought. The plug doesn’t go off again while he finishes cooking.

\---

The food is fine, thank God. Nobody makes Harry go back into the kitchen and cook a new meal completely from scratch, although they do insist on making Harry kneel down next to the table, and feeding him forkfuls of their meals, because it would obviously be too difficult to just let him have his own portion, never mind the fact that he was the one who cooked it. After dinner he’s instructed to clear the table, clean up any mess and bring in four beers and a bowl of Smarties (who knows why they have enough Smarties to fill an entire bowl). It’s difficult, Harry is clumsy at the best of times, and with a plug vibrating inside of him and random moments, he has to put all of his concentration into not tripping over himself or dropping anything. 

Finally, he makes his way back over to the sofa with the beer and chocolate, and thinks he might just be able to relax while the boys watch TV.

“Niall wants you to suck him off.” Zayn says.

Apparently not.

Harry tries to keep his face blank as he sinks down to his knees between Niall’s open legs and leans forward to where Niall _already_ has his cock out. Niall’s sat right back on the sofa, so Harry has to press himself up against it, and crane his neck forward to reach. He grips hold of the base of Niall’s cock, and guides it into this mouth quickly, not wanting to tease, and hears Niall hiss above him. He starts to work his tongue around the shaft, licking with broad strokes, and then he hears Liam start to talk:  
“Zayn tells me you had a bit of an accident in the kitchen Harry,” Harry closes his eyes, tries to focus on the heavy weight of Niall’s cock on his tongue, takes it a bit further into his mouth and listens to Niall moan. “It’s good that you cleaned it up, but we can’t have you thinking that you can get out of anything with your mouth. That’s your second warning. You have one more chance.”

Harry whines in frustration at Liam’s words and tries not to gag when Niall jerks his hips up, bumping his dick against the back of Harry’s throat. He works through it, and has just managed to take Niall down his throat completely when the plug buzzes again, and he chokes on a moan, flicking his eyes up and trying to figure out which one of the boys has the remote. But they’re not even looking at him, more interested on whatever’s on the TV, so Harry shuts his eyes again and starts to move on Niall’s cock, just wanting to get this done so that he can rest. He tries to ignore it when the plug starts to vibrate constantly, he really does. Up until now he’d been doing well, resisting touching himself by digging his nails into his palms and thinking of anything other than sex. But now, with Niall’s cock in his mouth and a vibrator teasing his ass and drawing muffled moans out of his throat, he can’t stop himself.

Slowly, Harry shifts his hips where they’re pressed against the sofa, trying to be as quiet and subtle as possible. It’s impossible to get the direct stimulation he really wants, but the feeling of his cock rubbing against the sofa through the lace of the panties and the layers of tulle that make up his skirt feels good, he can’t deny that. He goes for it more vigorously then, wiggling his hips from side to side and working Niall in and out of his mouth. The plug is still buzzing inside of him, and that, combined with the friction on his cock and how hard he’s been _all day_ , is enough to bring him to the edge quicker than he’d imagined. Suddenly, one movement of his hips manages to get him just right, and then he moans out loud, and it’s ruined.

Liam’s hand is in his hair, violently dragging him off of Niall’s cock, and Harry hears him growl _that’s it_ , as he gets his hands around Harry and pulls him up onto his lap. Harry lands with his stomach across Liam’s knees, his face pressed into Zayn’s thigh and his legs sprawled across Niall and Louis. 

“We were very clear with you Harry, you were told not to touch yourself, and you completely ignored us,” Liam pushes his hands under Harry’s skirt, shoving it up so that his ass is revealed again. “I think twenty should be a good punishment, don’t you?” Harry whines, realising what Liam is alluding to, and almost tries to wriggle away, but all four of them have their hands on him and he knows he’d have no chance.

“I think he should count them,” Louis says “Just so that he knows.”

“Yeah good idea. Okay, count them for me Harry.” And then Liam brings his palm down hard on the right cheek of Harry’s ass, making him gasp and cringe into Zayn’s leg. 

“..One,” He chokes out, clenching around the plug and feeling the way it gets pushed further into him. The second slap is even harder, and Harry can’t help himself from groaning before he manages a “Fuck… two.” Liam stops then.

“No swearing Harry. We’ll have to start again now that you’ve ruined it.” Harry takes a deep breath of air, hiccoughing as the plug buzzes briefly, and preparing himself for Liam’s hand on his ass. He makes it to eight before he messes up the next time, every touch of Liam’s palm has him squirming desperately, and he can feel where he’s started to cry from the pain. Zayn coos at Harry and runs his thumbs underneath Harry’s eyes, wiping away his tears.

When Liam starts to spank him for the third time, the plug is vibrating inside of Harry for most of it, and it takes everything he has to focus and count the impacts of Liam’s hand. On the seventeenth slap, the word is barely audible through Harry’s moans and gasped curses; Liam sighs and rubs his hand over Harry’s buttocks, letting the lace pull against his red skin. For a brief moment Harry thinks Liam is going to stop there, let Harry calm down, but then he says:

“Seeing as you like this so much, I suppose we should start again, but make it twenty-five this time,” Harry whines loudly, sobs out a _no_ into Zayn’s leg and so Liam says “Thirty then. Do it properly, Harry.”

Liam doesn’t hold back at all, spanking Harry so hard that he bounces a bit with each hit. Harry had thought that the pain would will his erection down, but in reality he’s been getting more and more desperate as Liam continues to hit him, and that’s possibly even more humiliating than being spanked in a maid’s outfit and lacy panties while a butt plug keeps him moaning and writhing. Possibly. The plug stays on the entire time, giving him no break from the stimulation, the vibrations seeming to intensify every time Harry’s hole clenches around it.

By some kind of miracle, Harry manages to count to thirty without messing up, but by the time he gets there he’s wriggling around in Liam’s lap and sobbing from the pain. His ass is stinging, and Harry is sure that it must be all kinds of shades of red and purple. Liam strokes his hand over the cheeks, and brings his hand down once more on each of them, and Harry practically screams, clutching at the sofa cushions and whining _no more, no more_. 

Liam chuckles and strokes a hand through Harry’s hair as he continues to sob quietly, and then brings that hand down to Harry’s ass and hooks two fingers into Harry’s panties, pulling them aside. Harry whimpers at the tug of the material over his ass, and then moans as Liam starts to tap the base of the plug. He hadn’t noticed it being turned off before, but the regular, electronic buzz has been replaced by the erratic pace Liam is setting, the gentler vibrations almost soothing him. 

Then Liam grabs the plug, and drags it out of Harry in one sharp motion, placing it on the table. Harry keens, throws his head back and shivers as the plug catches at his rim and then leaves his body entirely, cool air making its way inside his stretched hole. Liam pushes the fingers of one hand in Harry’s face and Harry gets the idea quickly, leans forward to suck them into his mouth, gets them as wet as he can. After a few seconds Liam takes them away, and almost immediately pushes both fingers into Harry’s ass, still holding the panties aside. He starts to fuck the in and out of Harry at a quick pace, giving him no time to adjust to something moving inside of him after being filled up with plastic all day.

Liam’s being rough: curling his fingers against Harry’s prostate and then pulling them out so that he whimpers, grabbing Harry’s hair and pulling his head back to hiss:

“Don’t come yet, Louis’ going to fuck you.” 

Into Harry’s ear.

Harry manages to turn his head slightly and sees Louis, suddenly naked and coving his hard cock with lube. Liam pulls his fingers out and wipes them on Harry’s skirt, pulls down Harry’s panties so that they’re around his thighs. He tugs Harry upright with an arm around his waist and then manoeuvres him over to sit in Louis’ lap.

“Hey” Louis says, smiling at Harry _again_ , and rubs his hands up Harry’s thighs and over his hips, pushing up his skirt with one hand and spreading Harry’s cheeks with the other. He pushes Harry up gently and then brings him down so that the head of his cock is just pushing inside Harry’s hole, teasing. “Ready then babe?” Louis asks, and Harry nods forcefully, surging forward to kiss Louis, panting and whining into his mouth when he’s made to sink down, Louis’ cock splitting him open. It hurts a bit, the plug hadn’t been big enough to stretch him enough for a cock, and Liam’s fingers had barely opened him up any more. But then Louis pushes his hips up just a bit, nudges Harry’s prostate and Harry is arching, taken away with how good it feels. Liam gets his hand on Harry’s cock then, and he jumps, causing Louis to moan and grip hold of Harry’s bruised ass cheeks where he’s still holding him open. Harry turns his head and leans in to kiss Liam, while Louis rubs around where his cock is disappearing into Harry, and Liam strokes Harry’s aching cock with quick movements. 

Harry’s been on the edge all day really, so once he’s bouncing on Louis’ lap with a quick, hard rhythm, it isn’t long before he’s moaning out loud, the feeling of Louis’ cock stretching him wide open, bumping against his prostate on every thrust, and Liam’s hand on his cock almost too much for him to handle. He manages to work himself up and down a few more times before he comes, practically collapsing onto Louis’ chest, while Liam keeps stroking him through his orgasm. Louis swears, and Harry knows that he’s clenching around him, knows how good that must feel, and he’s proved right when Louis tightens his fingers on Harry’s hips, pushes his cock even deeper, and comes inside Harry with a drawn out groan.

Louis kisses him again, before lifting Harry off of his cock and dumping him down onto the floor. Through his haze, Harry whines at the feeling of Louis leaving him, and at his sore bum colliding with the floor, and then Niall is there, turning Harry over onto his stomach and dragging his ass up into the air. 

Zayn is there too, lifting Harry’s chin and guiding his cock into Harry’s mouth before he can protest at all. Harry sucks on Zayn sloppily, his face getting messy as he licks over Zayn’s length, and he isn’t expecting it at all when Niall hooks two fingertips into Harry’s hole, and then licks over and into it. Harry wants to tell him to stop, he’s still so sensitive from his orgasm, but Niall is licking around his hole, dipping his tongue inside and actually lapping Louis’ come out of Harry’s hole, and his words get lost in an animalistic moan. Niall keeps going, fucks his tongue in and out of Harry’s open hole and pushes his fingers in along with it. 

Then he pulls away, and Zayn grabs Harry’s hair, pushes his dick all the way down Harry’s throat and starts to fuck his mouth, and Harry can’t get enough air, feels his eyes start to sting and water. Niall grabs hold of Harry’s already bruised hips, and shoves his dick into his stretched ass in one quick motion. Harry lurches forward, ends up gagging on Zayn’s cock even more. He’s crying again now, a combination of oversensitivity where Niall is buried inside of him, and lack of air from Zayn being so far down his throat. 

He can’t get away from the feeling, stuffed full at both ends, and it becomes even more overwhelming when Niall nudges a wet finger at Harry’s rim and pushes it in alongside his cock. Harry can’t do anything other than whine deep in his throat at how full he is, and he thinks that he’d probably just collapse limply onto the floor were it not for Liam shuffling up beside him, taking one of Harry’s hands and placing it pointedly on his cock. Harry obliges, moving his hand clumsily on Liam’s cock. 

Zayn’s pace has lost any sense of rhythm; he’s just thrusting his hips wildly, yanking on Harry’s curls as he comes into his mouth. Harry does his best to swallow, but some spills out of his mouth and drips down his chin. Liam moves out of Harry’s grasp, kneeling in front of him and jerking his cock until his hot come splashes onto Harry’s face. Harry sticks his tongue out, licks up any come that’s landed around his mouth. Then Niall is thrusting into Harry more forcefully, shoving him back and forth so quickly that Harry is sure he’ll get carpet burn, hips slamming against the sore skin of Harry’s ass, and coming inside him.

He pulls his cock out, but leaves his finger, swirls it around a bit and leans down to lick over Harry’s hole once more, pulling out his finger. Harry is about to relax, curl into a ball on the floor when something else pushes at his entrance and gets wedged inside of him. It’s the plug, and Harry moans, knows he’ll have to sleep with it in, knows he’ll have to stay wet and open for them until they want him next. It starts to vibrate and he yelps, writhing and shaking on the floor, filled up and covered in come. Someone picks him up and lets him curl on the sofa. Harry feels a blanket draped over him and cuddles into the arms of his band, waiting to be woken up by the plug the next morning.


End file.
